The Trouble with Francis
by Surf-merGirl1963
Summary: When Francis begins spending all his time with a pretty girl from out of town, Dulcey is suspicious of the girl's motives, but MacGregor and Marshall Crown ignore Dulcey's concerns, convinced that she's only jealous.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own any of these characters.

**Author's Note: **

I love the show and thought I'd write a fan fiction revolving around my favorite character, Francis. I'm a new fan of the show, so I apologize ahead of time if my character's personalities aren't up to par.

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* * *

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**Chapter One**

Something was different. Dulcey was sure. She hadn't seen much of Francis Wilde in the last month and she had seen him with his camera even less. For Francis, this was a bit odd. After all, photography was his livelihood. Well, that was excluding his deputyship. But still… something wasn't right.

"Francis!" She called to him as he ran for the stairs. She had positioned herself at this table for a reason. She could see both the door and the staircase. It would be near impossible for Francis to enter the restaurant and not be seen.

"Um… Yes, Miss Dulcey?" Francis paused at the bottom of the stairs, but didn't bother to move any closer to her. He seemed to be in a hurry.

"I've just wondered where you've been? I have hardly seen you for weeks."

"I'm sorry, Miss Dulcey. I've just been real busy." He spoke quickly.

"Busy? With what?"

"I can't stop to chat, I'm afraid. We'll talk later, okay?" He didn't wait for her to reply and sprinted up the stairs, disappearing from sight, into his room.

"Strange." Dulcey pulled her coffee cup closer towards her and warmed her hands on the porcelain. Francis Wilde in a hurry for something? It seemed so unusual and out of character for the young photographer. That is, unless he was fetching his camera for an intense action scene occurring somewhere nearby.

"Where's the lad off to in such a rush?" MacGregor stepped out from behind the curtained entry at the top of the stairs and began to slowly walk down the steps, while fussing with the buttons on his red shirt.

"He wouldn't tell me." Said Dulcey and she took a sip of coffee.

MacGregor reached her seconds later, "Aye, that boy's been in and out of here all day with hardly a word to anyone." He paused and eyed the blue and white coffeepot that sat on the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me. Would you like some?" Dulcey pushed back her chair. She would have to go to the kitchen and fetch him his own cup.

Macgregor shook his head, "Naw, stay where you's are, Lassie. I'll be leaving soon anyhow."

"Leaving? You too?"

"Isn't the Marshall 'round?"

"No, he left this morning. It seems everybody has a place to be today."

MacGregor nodded. "I see. Well, good day, Lass."

She watched hopelessly as he walked out the front doors. That was it. Everyone was gone doing one thing or another. Business was slow as well. Dulcey had never seen so few customers. It was a strange day indeed!

With a sigh, Dulcey turned back to her coffee.

Francis soon emerged from his room wearing a suit and tie. He waltzed quickly down the stairs and over to her table where he stood proudly. "Well? What do you think?" He lifted his arms and turned around full-circle, so she could get a good look at his outfit.

Dulcey's eyes widened. "You're asking me what I think? Francis, where ever are you going, dressed like that?"

"Out on a picnic."

"A picnic, this late in the afternoon and in a suit?"

"Well, there will be the carriage ride before we actually sit down to eat…"

Dulcey held up her hand to silence him. "Hold on, hold on a minute. _We_? Who's _we_?"

Francis looked down at his shoes and Dulcey saw the red creeping up into his face. He was blushing. "Well, Miss Ashley and I."

"Miss Ashley? Who's miss Ashley?"

"She's… um… new in town. I've never mentioned her?" He looked to Dulcey and she shook her head. "Well, she and her father moved here from New York. They purchased some land not far away and hope to start a farm."

"A farm?"

"Yep." Francis' gaze wandered to the clock hanging on the wall. The look of urgency returned to his face. "Oh, no! I'd better get goin'. I'm going to be late! Thanks for your help, Dulcey!" He hastily made his way towards the door and out onto the street.

Dulcey watched him leave. Miss Ashley? From New York? She thought it strange that someone from a city such as New York would suddenly decide to become a farmer. But then she decided it wasn't in her place to judge one on such things. After all, she had left Rhode Island, and for what? This restaurant that had once been a bar.

But she enjoyed it in Cimarron. She never had any real friends in Rhode Island, working as a housemaid. But here in Cimarron, she had real friends. Well, she liked to think of Marshall Crown and Francis and even MacGregor as her friends, at least. Yes, perhaps it wasn't crazy to leave city life for a town like this. After all, she had done the very same thing.

* * *

Dulcey was alone at the restaurant until late that night. She was washing her face in the washbasin in her bedroom when a knock came on her door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Lassie."

"Um…" Dulcey looked around the room and spotted her robe, hanging on a peg behind the door. "Just a minute." She hastily grabbed the garment and put it on over her nightgown, before unlocking the door. "Yes?" She opened the door a crack and peered out at the worried face of the Scotsman.

"Have ye heard from Francis?"

"No, I haven't seen him since he left at four. Why? What's wrong?" She searched his face for a clue.

"He is not in his room and I haven't seen 'im since earlier today."

Dulcey thought for a moment. "Well, what do you need him for? Is it urgent?"

MacGregor put a hand to his neck and began massaging his shoulder. "No, it is not urgent."

"You are sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well then, I'm sure we can wait until morning to bother him, then?"

"Yes. I suppose." He turned to leave. "Goodnight, Lassie."

But Dulcey wasn't about to let him go. She still had several unanswered questions, "M-MacGregor!"

He stopped and turned to her. "Yes, Lass?"

"Are you sure Francis isn't around. I mean, he should have been back from that picnic hours ago."

"Yes, I 's sure."

Dulcey frowned. This wasn't good, "Alright. Well, t-thank you. Goodnight, MacGregor."

"Goodnight, Lassie."

Dulcey closed her door and locked it again before removing her robe and placing it back on the hook. _Francis? Missing?_ She wasn't sure what to think. Perhaps MacGregor was wrong? He had been wrong before, hadn't he? Yes, she was sure of it. Perhaps he was wrong about this as well?

She walked back over to her dresser and picked up her hairbrush. She began to slowly pull in through her long yellow hair. _Francis? Missing?_ Well, there was one way to know for sure. She dropped the hairbrush back on the table and retrieved her robe. Then, very quietly, she unlocked her door and scurried out into the hall.

She stopped right outside Francis's room and pressed her ear to the door. Nothing. But then again, if he were sleeping, she didn't expect to hear anything. She firmly rapped on the door and waited patiently for a response. Seconds passed and there was no answer.

_Oh, Francis! Where could you be?_ She decided to try her last option. He could very well be in his room, but was only sleeping through all her attempts to get his attention. Very quickly, she returned to her room and fished out the spare key to Francis's quarters. Returning to the door she inserted the key into the lock and entered the room.

All was quiet and the room was empty.

_Oh no! MacGregor was right! _Dulcey thought in dismay as her eyes settled on the empty bed. He wasn't there. Francis Wilde was indeed missing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Alright, hands up!"

Dulcey froze at the sound of the voice behind her and hastily tossed her hands up into the air. "Don't shoot!" She pleaded, pinching her eyes firmly shut.

"Dulcey?" A lamp was soon lit and Dulcey turned around to face Marshall Crown.

"Jim!" She cried out in surprise. "When did you return?" Her hands stayed raised, the shock causing her to forget to bring them down.

Marshall Jim Crown retuned his gun to its holster. "Not too long ago. I say a shadowy figure entering Francis's room and decided to stop the prowler."

Dulcey blushed. "I was searching for Francis."

"Searching? What for?"

"MacGregor said he couldn't find him and I was worried."

Marshall Crown nodded thoughtfully.

"He's not here, Jim. I'm still worried."

"I wouldn't worry."

"But Jim---"

"He's a grown man, Dulcey. I'm sure it's nothing. He can take care of himself." He turned to go.

Dulcey wasn't sure she liked what he was saying. "B-but what about Miss Ashley?"

"Miss Ashley?" Crown turned back to her.

"Yes. Francis left here about four to take a Miss Ashley out on a picnic."

"_Miss_ Ashley, you say?" Crown appeared to be turning the name over in his mind.

"Yes. Why, is something wrong?"

"No. Not at all."

"Well, do you know her? Francis said she moved down here from New York." She wasn't about to let him go without an explanation.

"Yes, I met both she and her father yesterday. They bought the old Rapp farm."

"Rapp farm?"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Dulcey. I'm sure he's fine, and if he's out with Samantha Ashley, he couldn't be better."

Dulcey wasn't sure if he liked how he said that. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just get some sleep, Dulcey."

"But, Jim---"

"Sleep, Dulcey. I'll see you in the morning." He took one last look at her and turned back towards the door.

Dulcey sighed and watched him leave. She knew it was pointless to argue, but she hated giving up. _Go to sleep, Dulcey?_ Well, there wasn't much of anything else she could do anyways.

Dulcey extinguished the lamp and left Francis's room, locking the door behind her. She then made her way back to her own bedroom, where she removed her robe and jumped into the four-posted bed, pulling the covers over herself.

_Oh Francis, where are you? _She stared up at the shapes that the streetlights shined on her canopy through the lace curtains. She couldn't sleep, worrying about her friend. Jim had told her to forget about it, but Francis was never one to get home late.

Suddenly, she heard horses ride up and stop in front of the restaurant. Who could that be? She hastily jumped out of bed and over to the window, where she pulled the curtain a bit to the side and peered out onto the street below.

She saw Francis hop off a horse and tie it to the post. He then headed for the front door. _So Francis is back now? I wonder why he was out so late?_

Curious, she slipped over to her door and opened it a crack. She could here voices downstairs.

"You're sure getting back late." Said Marshall Crown. Dulcey recognized his voice instantly. There was no mistaking it.

"I was out on a picnic." Replied Francis. "I didn't originally plan to be gone so long, but you see, the wagon lost a wheel and I had to repair it before Samantha and I could get back to town."

"Samantha Ashley?"

"That's right. Do you know her?"

"I met her and her father once." The Marshall paused. "Did Samantha get home late? I'm sure her father didn't appreciate that."

"Oh, he was angry alright, but he calmed down once we explained ourselves. You know, the wheel coming off the axel."

Dulcey could just imagine the Marshall nodding his head in that same, impassive manner.

"Well, goodnight, Marshall."

"Good night, Francis."

Dulcey hastily closed her door as she heard Francis bounding up the stairs. She could hear him quietly humming to himself. Since when had Francis started humming? She cracked her door open again to watch him pause at his door and insert the key.

Oh, he was a goner, alright. Francis was in love. She could see the emotion written all over his face. She wasn't sure if she should be happy or disappointed. She didn't like him, did she? No, of course not.

She shut the door again, not waiting to see that Francis got in his room, and scurried back over to her bed. Francis was home, safe and sound. Now she could get some sleep.

It sounded so easy, yet, as Dulcey closed her eyes, she found herself unable to slip off into dreamland. _This is going to be a long night._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The next day, Dulcey rose early to start breakfast. She had gotten little sleep last night and unfortunately, everybody noticed. Starting with MacGregor.

"You be feelin' alright, Lassie?" He asked her as she poured him a cup of coffee.

"Yes, yes. Just fine." She replied and then turned her back on him to replace the coffeepot on the stove.

"I was jus' wondering. You look like you didn't get any sleep las' night."

Dulcey ignored his comment and began slicing bacon at the counter. "Did you ever get to ask Francis what you needed to?" She asked, placing the first thick slabs onto the frying pan.

"I caught him this mornin'."

"And?" She turned to him.

"And what, Lass?" He asked her.

"What did he say?"

"Say? Well, he said---"

"Good morning, everybody." Francis entered the room, his face sunny and bright. "How is everyone today on this bright and beautiful morning?" He took a seat beside MacGregor and then looked at both of his friends, waiting for them to reply.

"You're awful spry this mornin', Francis. What be on yer mind, Lad?" MacGregor lifted his coffee and took a sip from the blue and white cup.

"Oh, it's nothing really. I'm just having a truly wonderful day!"

"Coffee?" Dulcey asked, coming over to the table with the coffeepot.

"Oh, yes. Thank you." Francis replied, pushing the appropriate china towards her.

"A truly wonderful day, eh?" Said MacGregor. He eyed Francis suspiciously as he took another sip from his coffee cup.

Francis nodded quickly. "Yes siree! A truly wonderful day."

"And have ye any plans for this truly wonderful day?" Dulcey knew what Macgregor was hinting at this morning. Francis hadn't really been doing his job since first meeting Miss Ashley. Dulcey thought it strange that she had yet to meet this Miss Ashley herself. After all, it seemed that everyone else knew her.

"Well, nothing out of the usual."

"Good, then you can help me make me rounds." Macgregor took another sip of his coffee and then Dulcey refilled his cup.

Francis's expression changed and he seemed to look miserable.

Dulcey couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Good mornin'." Marshall Crown entered the room.

"Good morning, Jim. Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes. Thank you, Dulcey." He took the seat at the table across from Francis. "So, I see you're actually making an appearance today?"

"What do you mean?" Asked Francis.

Dulcey set a cup in front of the Marshall and poured him some hot coffee.

"Aw, why be so clueless, lad? You can't tell me, ye haven't noticed ye been missing work for the past few days?" MacGregor leveled a challenging gaze on Francis.

Francis looked down at his black coffee. "No, I guess not."

Dulcey decided to help him out of the spotlight. "Here we are, breakfast." She placed a plate of bacon onto the table followed by a loaf of bread and some butter. "I'll have the eggs done shortly." She added, placing a plate in front of each of the men.

She then looked at Francis. She agreed with the Marshall and MacGregor about his indifference to his work, but poor Francis. She could understand his being in love and forgetting everything. She often forgot a thing or two herself when Marshall Crown was around.

"Thank you, Dulcey."

Dulcey returned to the stove and began cracking eggs over the frying pan on the stove. She kept her ears tuned in to the conversation occurring at the table.

Francis spoke up. "I'll do better. I promise." There was a pause and Dulcey could just imagine Macgregor and the Marshall exchanging unsure glances. "I swear it. And to prove myself, I'll work the next five days--- straight."

"Whatever makes you feel better." Said the Marshall.

* * *

Later that day, Dulcey found herself at the general store looking at some fabrics. Business had been so slow lately, she decided to try her hand at sewing. She felt a dire need to be useful and therefore, had decided to sew Marshall Crown a new vest. She wanted to start with something small, so as not to tire of the activity too quickly.

She had finally settled on some black material, when a young woman, Dulcey didn't recognize, entered the store.

"Good morning, Miss Ashley." The shopkeeper greeted the newcomer.

Dulcey blinked twice. This was Miss Ashley? She looked far from a farmer's daughter. In fact, she looked like-- well-- Dulcey didn't know, but she was jealous. Which was unusual for her. She didn't normally get jealous.

"Good morning, Mr. Kline. Have you got my order together?" Miss Ashley asked sweetly, tugging at the bow to her perfectly sewn bonnet.

Dulcey continued to watch the scene, forgetting the soft black cloth she still held in her hand.

"Yes, ma'am. Let me go get it fro you." The old shopkeeper headed for the back room. "It'll be just a minute."

Samantha Ashley nodded her head and turned. "Hello." She smiled and nodded politely at Dulcey, who had been staring at her.

Dulcey looked away quickly. How embarrassing! And how could Miss Ashley be so polite about her rudeness? Dulcey instantly found the need to get out of the store and hurriedly replaced the black fabric on the table. She then flashed Miss Ashley a friendly smile as she hurried past and out the door.

She ran into MacGregor on the walk.

"Good gracious, Lassie! Where you be off to in such a hurry?" He had broken her fall and had grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry." Dulcey apologized. "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going?"

"Are ya alright?" MacGregor asked.

"Yes, yes. Fine." She wasn't about to tell Macgregor about how incompetent she felt around Miss Ashley. In fact, she wasn't even sure herself why she thought that way.

"Well, alright then." MacGregor gave her one last look and continued down the walk.

Dulcey felt foolish. She decided to head back to the restaurant.

"Dulcey, I wondered where you went off to." Marshall crown greeted her as she entered.

"Were you looking for me?" She asked.

"No, but you had a couple of people come in here looking for breakfast. They were awfully disappointed to find the restaurant closed."

"Customers?" Dulcey was disappointed. This was definitely not her day. All yesterday, they only had about five customers come in after lunch, and then today, they were arriving right and left.

"Yes, Mr. Ashley and his daughter just left. I was hoping to introduce you."

Dulcey sunk into a chair.

"Something wrong, Dulcey?" Marshall Crown approached her.

"I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

Why did everyone think something was wrong with her?

"I-I'll be alright. I guess I'd better get things up and running. Who knows when the lunch crowd is going to arrive?" She stood up quickly and walked past the Marshall, avoiding eye contact. She didn't turn around until she had reached the kitchen. If she had, she would have noticed someone watching her from the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Good morning, Marshall Crown." Samantha Ashley smiled sweetly at the man as she walked in the front doors of the Wayfarer's Inn.

"Good morning, Miss Ashley." Marshall crown greeted the pretty customer. "I see you're back already. Miss Coppersmith just returned if you're hungerin' for some lunch."

"Actually, father's going to meet me here." She continued to smile that dainty grin. It was disgusting. Made Samantha want to spit. She hated smiling. She always had. There was nothing in her life to smile about. But Reilly had told her to play pretty, and she intended to fit the part.

She walked over to a table and sat down.

A waitress soon came out to assist her. Samantha recognized her as the girl who had been staring at her that morning in the store.

"Here's a menu." Said the girl, handing her a menu. "Just let me know when you're ready."

"Thank you." Samantha smiled at her, though she would have preferred frowning. A smile wasn't to be wasted on this simpleton! However, someone as attractive as the Marshall…

Samantha glanced at him from over her shoulder. He was still at the table by the door, reading the newspaper. Handsome indeed. A shame she had to waste all her charm on that plain fellow, Francis.

"Um…" She looked up at the girl. "I don't think I caught your name?"

"It's Dulcey Coppersmith." The girl with yellow hair smiled, but Ashley knew it was forced. She herself had had to smile the same way in past occasions. The girl didn't trust her. Either that, or she was jealous. Samantha almost laughed. Both instances were amusing.

"I'm Samantha Ashley."

"Well, it's nice meeting you, Miss Ashley. Have you decided what you would like yet?"

"Oh, yes. A cup of tea would be nice. You do have tea?"

"Of course." Dulcey smiled at her again. Forced. Samantha inwardly chuckled.

Samantha watched her walk back to the kitchen, before peeling off her lace gloves and dropping them into her lap. Dulcey soon returned with the tea and Samantha thanked her, before dismissing her and taking a sip.

It is then Reilly entered. "Good morning, Marshall."

"Good morning, Mr. Ashley."

"Hello, Samantha." He took the other seat at her table.

She smiled cutely, "Hello, father."

Father? How silly it sounded as it rolled off her tongue. Especially since her real father was dead. She had seen to that. Reilly was far from her father. If not for the beard, people would clearly see he was no more then fifteen years her senior. She wondered how people could be so unmindful of those types of things. Though, she did look younger then her twenty-six years.

Reilly smiled back at her. How she hated that beard. Reilly had been so handsome when he was clean-shaven; now, it was difficult for her to even look at him. "I sent the telegram to your brother. He'll be joining us in a couple of weeks."

"Oh good." She took another sip of her tea. Everything was going to plan.

"Did you get the order from the store?"

"Yes, father. The shop owner put it all in our wagon. And I gave him the money."

"That's a girl."

"Excuse me." Samantha looked up to see Dulcey standing there again. "Could I get you anything, sir?" She directed her comment at Reilly.

"Oh, yes please, miss. A cup of black coffee will do nicely." He smiled his shark-like grin at her.

"Y-yes sir."

Samantha watched Dulcey walk off again and then turned back to Reilly. "After this, are we headed back to the farm?"

"Yes. We'll be coming back in tomorrow to pick up Kip from the train depot, though."

She nodded and Dulcey returned with the coffee. "Here you are, sir."

"Thank you, Miss."

"Samantha! Is that you?"

Oh great. Mr. Wilde. Samantha turned in her seat and forced a sweet smile. "Francis, darling. Hello. How are you today?"

"Oh, dandy." Francis stepped through the doorway to the restaurant and trotted over to their table.

"Father, you remember Francis?" She looked to Reilly.

"Oh my yes, of course. How do you do, Mr. Wilde?" Samantha had to say she was impressed with Reilly's theatrics. He was the perfect model father. She watched in amusement as he and Francis shook hands.

"Fine, thank you sir."

"Might you join us for coffee?"

"Well, I---"

The Marshall cleared his throat and Francis's smile faded.

"I'm afraid I can't today, Mr. Ashley. I'm working."

"Working?"

Samantha placed a hand on Reilly's arm. "He's a deputy, remember father?"

"Oh, my yes. Well, maybe some other time, Francis?"

"Sure, sir. I would be delighted."

"Well, thank you for stopping in. Goodbye, Mr. Wilde."

"So long, Mr. Ashley. Samantha."

"Bye." Samantha fluttered her fingers at him and watched as the deputy marshal exited the restaurant.

"Delightful fellow." Said Reilly. Samantha knew he was just saying this for their audience. They needed to make a good impression on the Marshall and his friend.

"Would you like some more coffee, Jim?"

Samantha could hear Dulcey address the Marshall who sat at a table behind them.

"No thanks, Dulcey. I think I'm going to head out and see if I can find Mac."

Reilly turned in his seat. "Leaving now, Marshall?"

Marshall Crown nodded. "It was nice seeing you and your daughter again, Mr. Ashley."

"It was nice seeing you. Goodbye, Marshall Crown."

"Goodbye." Samantha added her own farewell.

"Bye." The Marshall left.

"Would you like some more coffee, Mr. Ashley." Dulcey came to their table.

"No, thank you, Miss."

"Would you like more tea, Miss Ashley?"

"No, thank you. I think father and I will be heading out soon."

"How much do I owe you?" Reilly dug in his pocket for his wallet.

Dulcey told him the balanced and he paid her fully with a small tip.

"Thank you, sir." She expressed her gratitude.

"No problem." Reilly turned to her. "Well, Samantha. Let's get back to that farm of ours."

"Yes, Father." She looked to their waitress, "It was nice meeting you, Dulcey."

"Yes. It was a pleasure meeting you also."

Neither of them meant it, Samantha was sure. She put her gloves back on and followed Reilly out to their wagon. He helped her up into the seat and then crawled on beside her. Neither of them spoke until they were well on their way to the farm.

"Miserable." Complained Samantha, "Completely miserable." She turned to Reilly. "Roy? How much longer are we going to have to keep this thing up? You know how much it kills me when I use words like 'delightful' and 'pleasure'."

Reilly chuckled, "Aw, Samantha honey, you're sweet."

"You keep saying that, Roy. But I want an answer. How much longer am I going to have to play this? I'm not cut out for this stuff." She pulled off her gloves and began tugging free the ribbon on her bonnet.

"Relax, sweetheart. As soon as Kip arrives, we can begin plannin'. You, meanwhile, just keep romancing that young reporter. The closer we get to him, the closer we get to the Marshall."

"That's just it. You still haven't told me why you want him. I don't think I much like the idea of killing a lawman."

"He deserves to be dead, after what he done."

She hated it when he got like this; so defensive and uptight. Maybe he was right; the Marshall deserved to be killed. But she just couldn't warm up to the idea of killing Marshall Crown. And it wasn't just because he was a lawman.

"Roy?"

"Silence, Samantha. I don't want to talk any further on the subject."

Okay. That was fine. She didn't much want to talk about it anymore, either. Hopefully, when Kip arrived, things would begin to look up. At least things would start moving faster and knowing Kip, he'd want to do things his way.

She smiled at the thought. Yep. Just as soon as Kip arrived. Things would be fine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_It was nice meeting you, Dulcey._ The words echoed in her ears as Dulcey returned to the kitchen with the two empty teacups. Sure, it was nice, but Dulcey was sure Miss Ashley didn't mean a word of what she said. There was something unnatural about that woman.

Dulcey thought back to her time at the store that morning. Miss Ashley had been fussing with her bonnet as if it were uncomfortable. Now that Dulcey thought of it, Miss Ashley didn't seem used to it, which meant she hadn't been wearing bonnets very long. Why had she just started?

Something just wasn't right with that woman, Dulcey was sure. Nope, something wasn't right at all.

She placed the cups onto the washbasin and then placed another pot of coffee on the stove. There was also something else queer about the pair. Dulcey didn't like Mr. Ashley either. Though she couldn't think of why.

They're both too polite. She decided. They were _too_ polite. "It's unnatural!" She unintentionally spoke the last part out loud.

"What's unnatural, Lass?"

Dulcey spun around to see MacGregor standing in the doorway. "Oh, MacGregor!" She said, "I didn't see you there."

MacGregor nodded and came over to the table to take a seat.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"No, thank you, Lass."

"Jim was looking for you earlier. Did he find you?"

"Yes, Lass."

Dulcey tried to think of another thing to say, but MacGregor beat her to it. "Alright, Lassie. I want the truth from you. What's botherin' ya?" He looked up at her and Dulcey bit her lower lip nervously. Was she really so see-through?

"Nothing's bothering me…" It felt terrible lying to the Scotsman, "Much." She added the last part hastily, hoping it'd change the lie.

"Much?" He looked at her quizzically.

Should she confide in him? Should she tell him her suspicions about the Ashleys? Well, it seemed to make more sense to talk to him about it, rather than to Francis, or the Marshall. After all, MacGregor always took her seriously and he was concerned.

"MacGregor," She sat with him at the table, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. What be on yer mind?" He placed his elbows on the tabletop.

"What do you think of the Ashleys?"

He began to chuckle. "So that's what this 's all about?" He asked her.

"I just want you opinion." Dulcey replied a bit harshly. She began to wonder it had been a mistake, confiding in the Scotsman.

"Why? What's got you so upset about the Ashleys?"

Dulcey decided to take her chances. She couldn't possibly look more foolish than she already felt. "I don't trust them." She said, "There's something unnatural about them!"

"Unnatural?"

"Yes. Haven't you seen how polite they always are to everybody? Not to mention, Miss Ashley always seems to be fussing with her bonnet and---"

"Lassie, lots of woman fuss with their bonnets. Not that I'd blame them. The things look rather uncomfortable."

"But she's constantly messing with it. I don't think she normally wears one."

"Why does that matter? You don't wear one."

"No, I guess not. But I used to. In Rhode Island."

He shook his head slowly. "You want to know what I think?"

"What?"

"You're makin' a whole lotta somethin' out of a whole lotta nothin'."

Dulcey stood up, offended. "I'm not making any of this up!"

"Calm down, Lass. You wanted my opinion and I gave it to you. There's no need to get upset."

He was right, Dulcey knew it. She _had_ asked for his opinion after all and he gave it. "I'm sorry." She apologized, "I shouldn't be bringing it out on you."

"Aw, that's all right." He stood as well. She was thankful he was so forgiving. "I understand how this whole thing's effectin' you. Miss Ashley makin' you feel so incompetent and all…"

_Now hold on a minute!_ "I never said---"

"You didn't have to, Lass." He gave her a gentle grin and moved towards the door. "I'll be seein' you at dinner." She watched him leave.

Dulcey stood there for several seconds letting all he had said sink in. Incompetent? Yes, she had to admit the word had crossed her mind. How many other people noticed how she shriveled in Miss Ashley's shadow? Had Marshall Crown noticed this morning in the restaurant? She hoped not. It would be too embarrassing. She had always thought she had good self-esteem and now this…

Dulcey sighed. She didn't know. But there had to be somebody who would take her suspicions seriously! Unfortunately, all her friends in town wouldn't understand. Especially _not_ Francis.

_That's the whole trouble!_ Thought Dulcey. _Francis is too star-struck to notice all the phoniness surrounding the Ashleys. But then why doesn't MacGregor understand my suspicions unless he too is smitten by Miss Ashley's charm? And Jim---?_

She let her thoughts wander at that moment. No. Not Jim. He wouldn't be fooled by Miss Ashley's charade… Would he? She hated her doubt. Maybe she should talk to him about her suspicions? But then she'd feel just awful if he laughed at her the way MacGregor had.

_Either way,_ thought Dulcey, _I'll be at that train depot tomorrow morning to see whom the Ashley's pick up._ She decided she'd make note of their reaction and treatment of the man they called Kip. Even if nobody else would, she'd keep her eye on the Ashleys and see just what it was they were up to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Samantha Ashley awoke early the following morning. Kip's train would come in at eight. She and Reilly would both have to be down there by then. She quickly dressed and hurried down to the kitchen. She whipped up a quick batch of griddlecakes, placing them on the table, before Reilly appeared.

"Good mornin', Samantha." He greeted her with a yawn and collapsed in a chair at the table. He began hungrily spooning the cakes onto his plate.

"You'd better eat quick, Roy. Kip's train arrives at eight and it's nearly seven. We have to make sure we're at the depot in time." She soon joined him at the table and poured herself a cup of hot coffee. She wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but Reilly had refused to buy her tea at the store.

"We'll make it in plenty of time." Reilly added a fourth griddlecake to his stack before covering it in maple syrup. Samantha hoped he'd be more sparing. The syrup hadn't been cheap. "Just be sure to treat him like your brother. None of that 'kissin' at the depot' nonsense."

Samantha rolled her eyes. She hated Reilly, always had. It was a shame Kip had to finish that jail sentence in San Francisco before he could come across the states. She had been traveling with Reilly for over two months now and she had long become bored of his company. He was handsome, yes, but charming? Samantha figured he needed a couple lessons.

"I'm serious, Samantha." He leveled a serious gaze on her, "Just because your Kip's gal, doesn't mean you can drop your charade."

"I'm not a little girl, Roy. You can stop treating like one." She turned away and sipped her coffee. She set it down and ripped one of the cakes in half, nibbling at the food while Reilly rattled on.

"Anyways, after we pick up Kip, we can bring him back here. We'll see what he says should be our next step."

Samantha nodded. Good old Kip. Maybe, he'd finally relieve her from the dreary task of flirting with Mr. Wilde. That boy was far from interesting and Samantha found it more and more difficult to pretend he was.

"Well, I'm ready. Let's get a move on!"

Samantha looked to his plate, expecting it to be half-full, but it was empty. Food inhalation. Apparently Reilly was a pro.

"Leave the dishes. We'll pick them up after we get Kip." Reilly wandered over to the door and removed his hat from a peg, placing it on his head.

Samantha downed the last of her coffee and then soon followed him, making sure she put on her bonnet and gloves. They were so close, now that Kip was coming, and she knew there wasn't room for error. Actually, any one mistake would mess up years of planning. Years that Samantha was not willing to repeat.

* * *

Dulcey arrived at the train depot ten minutes before the train was expected to arrive. Dawned in a clever disguise, she only hoped Francis wouldn't miss the clothes and MacGregor, the hat. After all, she would have asked them if she could borrow these things, but then figured if they knew what they were for, they'd disregard her request.

The disguise was perfect! Dulcey hardly even recognized herself in the mirror this morning. Her only concern was that her long blonde hair would somehow escape the pins and hat and fall out of place. That wouldn't do at all, and as she rushed to the depot, she prayed it wouldn't happen.

Mr. Ashley and Miss Ashley appeared not long after her and made there way up onto the platform. Miss Ashley settled on a bench as Mr. Ashley walked over to the conductor to ask if the train was on time.

Dulcey decided to take the next bench in hope of witnessing the reunion. She hoped that she'd see something substantial and almost regretted her decision of not having borrowed Francis's camera. However, even if she had brought it, she wouldn't know how to use is and it would be much too obvious to the Ashley's that they were the subjects of her photo.

"He said the train's on time."

Dulcey watched through the corner of her eye as Mr. Ashley settled in the bench beside his daughter.

"Oh, good. I dread thinking of having to wait too long at this place."

Miss Ashley began fussing with her bonnet ribbon again. _And MacGregor said it was nothing suspicious… _Dulcey made mental note of the gesture.

"Even if it were late, we could have figured out how much and gone into town for a while to kill time."

Dulcey wasn't sure if she imagined it, but she was sure Miss Ashley had flinched when her father had said the word 'kill'.

"Good morning, Dulcey."

Dulcey jumped as a voice whispered in her ear and spun around to see Marshall Crown sitting beside her at the bench, a satisfied grin on his face.

"How did you---" She lowered her voice as people began to stare. "What are you doing here? How did you know it was me?"

Marshall Crown only smiled. "I've been watching you since you left the restaurant this morning. MacGregor told me about the little discussion you had with him yesterday and he was worried. I told him I'd watch out for you."

Dulcey frowned and crossed her arms across her chest. For the first time in her life, she felt herself getting mad at Marshall Crown. She decided not to answer him, not trusting herself to reply rationally.

That seemed to suit the Marshall just fine, as he also sat silently in the bench, watching the various townsfolk mill about the platform.

Dulcey knew he'd probably not leave until she did, or at the chance that something beyond MacGregor and Francis's control occurred. She knew on a day as slow as today that probably wasn't probable. She looked up at Marshall Crown. Well, at least he didn't tell her to go back to the Wayfarer's Inn.

She let her eyes wander back to the Ashleys, just as the blow of a train whistle was heard not far in the distance.

* * *

Samantha Ashley frowned when she caught sight of the Marshall sitting on the next bench. What was he doing here? Was he waiting for someone? Kip would be traveling in disguise; the Marshall wouldn't recognize him. Would he?

She looked to Reilly, and after catching his gaze nodded nonchalantly over towards the Marshall. Reilly followed her gaze, smiled sweetly and pat her hand. _Not to worry._ That smile seemed to say.

Not to worry? Marshall Crown was at the train depot! If he were to somehow recognize Kip, the entire plan would be ruined! She only hoped Kip's disguise would be good enough.

Her gaze wandered back to the Marshall and it is then she noticed the skinny being sitting beside him. Was it---? Samantha wasn't sure. Dulcey Coppersmith in boy's clothes? It didn't seem to fit the hopeless weakling she had met only yesterday. But yet, there was something oddly familiar about that boy… Samantha's eyes narrowed.

"Here it comes."

Samantha's gaze snapped back to the track as the train pulled up. She hadn't even noticed its approach having been distracted by the Marshall's presence.

When the train finally came to a stop. Both she and Reilly rose, ready to search the crowd for Kip Wrangler. She hoped she wouldn't recognize him, yet--- her eyes landed on Reilly for a moment--- she hoped she be able to stand looking at him.

"There he is!" Exclaimed Reilly suddenly. He began waving his hands over his head. "Kip! Kip my boy! Over here, son!"

The man that answered Reilly's cry made Samantha's blood run cold. She didn't recognize him, alright. He had shaved off the moustache and the beard and his hair was different. Darker. Black. She had never seen him with black hair before. He looked wonderful.

"Hello, Pops." He and Reilly shook hands. Kip was playing the perfect son. Now all Samantha had to do was not lose her cool and be the perfect sister. _He's your brother. _She chided herself. _Give him a friendly hug, that's all you need._

"It's great to see you, son." They completed the handshake and then Kip turned to her. Her heart beat faster.

"Hello, Samantha." He smiled at her. But there was nothing passionate in his gaze. He was playing his part too well and as he pulled her into a short hug, she felt herself feeling very much like his sister. To say the least, she was disappointed. She hoped things would change once they returned to the farm.

"Well, have you your luggage?" Reilly smile was fatherly as he looked back to Kip.

"All I've got is this here suitcase." Kip picked up the bag he had sitting at his feet.

"Alright, then. Let's get back to the farm." Reilly began walking across the platform and both Kip and Samantha followed.

"I hope you like it." Said Samantha. It was true; she did hope he liked the farm. "There's a real nice sized farmhouse and a barn and a woodshed. We've only a couple of horses, but there's a cow and a few chickens…"

Kip only nodded, as if he thought she was annoying. She hoped this was all a charade and he was a good actor. If not, well… Samantha wasn't quite sure yet. But she was sure her plans wouldn't involve the murder of a lawman.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Francis? Where are you going?" Dulcey gave him an impatient stare as she watched the reporter skip down the stairs, two at a time. He was in that suit again, and Dulcey knew that could only mean one thing: he was going to see Miss Ashley. "I thought you were working tonight?"

"The Marshall gave me the evening off."

"He did?"

Francis nodded. "The Ashleys invited me over to their farm for dinner tonight."

Dulcey had been right. She nodded simply, trying to appear unfazed.

"Do I look alright?" Francis paused in front of her table and spun around to display his suit.

"You look nice." She smiled and though it was forced, hoped he wouldn't notice, but then again, Francis never seemed to notice things nowadays.

"Thanks, Dulcey." She smiled at him again and to her amazement, he leaned over the counter and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Well! Wish me luck!"

She wasn't sure what to wish him as she watched him walk out the front doors of the Wayfarer's Inn. The kiss had caught her unawares. Francis had never kissed her before; he hadn't even hugged her. She lifted her hand and touched the side of her face.

"Good evenin', Lass!" Macgregor entered, looking smug.

"Oh, hello MacGregor." She hastily dropped her hand and tried to appear inconspicuous. She picked up her teacup and took a sip of the hot beverage.

"Slow business again today, eh?" He sat on her table and she looked up at him. He clearly wasn't solely interested in a business report; he had something else to say.

"I guess so." She tried to appear bored.

"And where was Francis off to in such a hurry?"

"He got a dinner invitation from the Ashleys."

"You don't sound so happy."

"I'm fine, MacGregor!" She hadn't meant to snap, but he definitely noticed. _Oh no, now he's going to lecture me again_.

But he didn't, he only rose from his seat and walked towards the stairs. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything."

She did need something. Someone to talk to. Someone who would take her seriously. She sighed dejectedly and took another sip of tea.

Hours soon passed with no customers and no change. She went to bed early that night and as her head hit the pillow, found herself unable to sleep.

She was thinking about Francis again. He wasn't home yet and it was way too late. She threw back the covers and went over to her window. There was no one out on the street and sure enough, Francis's horse was missing.

He sure spends too much time with those Ashleys. She thought bitterly to herself. Why couldn't someone believe her? The Ashleys were suspicious. They weren't what they appeared to be.

Francis didn't return until after midnight, and only then, is it, that Dulcey crawled back in bed and fell asleep.

* * *

Samantha didn't have fun a dinner that night. Kip and Reilly basically shoved her aside and she spent most of her time out on the porch swing with Francis.

She tried to act sweet and friendly in front of the deputy marshal, but apparently, he could tell something was wrong.

"Samantha? Are you aright?" He looked at her with concerned eyes and for the first time she noticed what beautiful eyes he had.

"I'm fine." She looked away and settled back into the seat. The swing had a board missing and it was almost uncomfortable to sit on.

"Samantha, something's bothering you." He turned to her then and took her hands in his. He met her gaze and she looked away. "I want to help. Can't you tell me what's wrong?"

She could, but she didn't want to. If Kip and Reilly ever found out, she'd be history. But she wanted so badly to confide in someone; not that confiding in Francis would be much help…

"It's your brother isn't it?"

She bristled when she heard that. How did he know?

"What did he do?"

She turned to him and tried to put on her most honest smile. "It's fine Francis. Nothing's wrong. You don't need to worry about me." She gave him the most sincere look she could muster. Luckily, he seemed to believe her.

"Well, alright. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. It was sweet of you to care." It was sweet. Since when was the last time someone actually showed they cared about her feelings? She guessed it had been long, because she couldn't recall.

When Francis went home that night, she let him kiss her. She knew it was more for her then for him. She needed that kiss. She waved as he departed and didn't turn back towards the house until he had disappeared from sight. Reilly and Kip followed her.

"Whooey! Samantha, you've got that boy head-over-heels for you!"

Samantha said nothing in response to Reilly's claim.

"Just think, Kip. At the way these things are going, it won't be long before we've got the Marshall in our grasp!"

Kip said nothing either and Samantha found herself wondering why. Did he know she wasn't faking when she had kissed Francis? Not that she liked Francis or anything.

She slowed her pace and looked back at Kip, but he walked right past her. She now found herself longing to be pushed aside; it was a lot less hurtful than being flat out ignored.

As Samantha crawled into bed that night, she thought back to the folks she had met in Cimarron. Hadn't she decided that morning leaving the depot, that if Kip didn't want her anymore that she'd go to the other side? The Marshall wasn't dead yet, there was still time.

She supposed the only thing holding her back was the doubt that Kip really didn't want her. He hadn't made her feel wanted all day, but that could have all been acting. She decided to get up and ask him straight out. Her emotions were so mixed up, she doubted she could cause them anymore confusion.

She quickly slipped out of bed and into her robe. She exited her room and padded down the hall to Kip's door. She knocked softly.

"Who is it?" Came a gruff reply.

"Kip? It's Samantha."

"Go away."

Well, that hurt. "Kip. I want to talk to you. Can't I come in?"

There was a short pause. "Alright. Come in."

She grabbed the doorknob and turned, pushing the door in. The room was dark, and only when she totally stepped inside, did Kip turn on a lamp. She expected to see him in bed, but he wasn't. He was standing by the window, his back to her. Samantha decided he had probably just come up from downstairs.

She timidly approached him. "Kip? Is something wrong?"

He stood silently. He still had his gun belt on and that made her nervous.

"Kip?" She reached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What?"

"Something's bothering you. What is it?"

Then he turned to her. His expression was blank. Samantha knew he didn't want her to know what he was thinking, but she couldn't help but think he was thinking about her. "You wanted to talk. So what is it you wanted to talk about?"

What was it? She thought she had forgotten, but then it came back to her. "Well…" She let her voice trail off, trying to decide how to phrase the question. "I was just wondering about us?"

"What about us?"

Could he really be serious? "Well…" She thought again, "I just wanted to know if you still liked me." She looked at the floor and when he didn't respond, she turned towards the door. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

He watched he go, she was sure. She could feel his gaze on her as she closed the door behind her and wandered down the hall and back to her own bedroom. Her mind still wasn't at ease and she found it extremely hard to concentrate on sleep.

She removed her robe and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Well, sweet dreams. She wasn't sure if her dreams would be sweet or not, but as she began to fall into a deep slumber, she thought back to Marshall Crown. She really didn't want to kill him anymore. When she and Kip were together, all she could think about was making Kip happy, but now that he didn't want her, well… she didn't want to hurt the Marshall anymore.

It is then she decided on what she was going to do. She'd turn herself in. Tomorrow morning, she'd ride up to Cimarron and tell the Marshall everything. He'd take her seriously, she was sure. Yes, that's what she'd do.

The only roadblock now was getting to town without Reilly or Kip coming along. But as she dropped off into a deep slumber, Samantha was sure there was a way around that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Marshall Crown!"

Dulcey's slumber was interrupted by a shrill cry for help. Wondering what was the matter, she hastily threw aside the blankets and strapped herself into her robe. Francis met her at the upstairs railing.

"Kip? What is it? What's wrong?" Francis called down to the frantic caller.

"Where's Marshall Crown? I must see him immediately!"

"What's going on?" Dulcey looked frantically towards Francis and then back to Kip.

"I don't know." Francis walked past her and down the stairs. "Kip! Calm down. What's wrong?"

Marshall Crown soon appeared from his office. From the look of his clothing, he had dressed in a rush. "What's all this commotion about?"

"Oh, Marshall. It's Samantha. She--- she's gone!"

"Gone?" Marshall Crown gave the hysterical man a strange look.

"Not just gone, Marshall. Gone. She's dead!"

_Dead?_ Dulcey couldn't believe it. Samantha Ashley was dead?

"Dead?" Apparently, Marshall Crown couldn't believe it either.

"That's what I said, isn't it? She's dead Marshall. A bullet through the head. She left a note and everything."

"A-a note?" Francis was still pale from the shock and his voice quavered when he spoke, "W-what do y-you mean a n-note?"

"Suicide! That's what I'm talkin'. My sister done took her own life!"

"Now, calm down." Marshall Crown instantly took control of the situation. "Mr. Ashley, where's your father?"

"He still at the farm. He didn't want to leave her. Oh my goodness… Oh my goodness!"

"Dulcey? Get this man some coffee."

"Yes, sir." So he had noticed her standing there. She hastily flew down the stairs and entered the kitchen, nearly running into MacGregor.

"Mac?"

"Yes, sir. Marshall?"

"You're comin' with me."

Francis stepped forward. "W-what about me, Marshall?"

"Stay here with Dulcey and help her tend to Mr. Ashley. By the looks of things, he could use all the help he could get!"

Marshall Crown and MacGregor were gone before Dulcey got the fire going in the stove. She hastily began to prepare the coffee and set three china cups on the table, just as Francis walked in with a devastated Kip Ashley.

"Sit here."

Dulcey watched as Francis led Mr. Ashley into a chair. She thought Francis was handling the news very well, considering how close he seemed to be to Miss Ashley. Dulcey figured that was the Marshall's whole point of making him stay behind and help Kip, it got his mind off self-pitying.

"There, now calm down and breathe easy. The Marshall will take care of it." He patted Kip on the back encouragingly. "It's gonna be okay."

Dulcey heated the coffee and when it was done, passed both Kip and Francis a cup.

Kip took his cup mechanically and at Francis's direction, took a long sip.

'There you are, Kip. Now take it nice and easy."

Dulcey soon took a seat as well and poured herself a cup of the warm liquid. She watched as Francis comforted the hysteric gentleman, offering him more and more coffee. Soon Kip announced he was tired and Dulcey and Francis helped him get settled in an empty room upstairs.

Dulcey soon returned to the kitchen and Francis soon joined her, announcing that Kip had finally fallen asleep.

"I still don't believe it!" Francis sat at the kitchen table. Dulcey poured him another cup of coffee and placed it in front of him. "I just won't believe it!"

He was miserable and Dulcey felt sorry for him.

"Samantha would never take her own life!"

Dulcey had to agree. Yes, the Ashleys were strange, but she hardly took Miss Ashley as the type to result to suicide. It was too easy a way out for a woman like Samantha Ashley to end one's life in the middle of the night. Dulcey was sure there was much more to the mysterious death than met the eye. She was thankful Marshall Crown had taken MacGregor with him when he went down to the Ashley farm. She didn't trust those people and Kip may be upstairs, but Mr. Ashley was still at the farm.

Francis continued, Dulcey feared he was going into self-pitying mode, "She and I were so happy together…" He let his voice trail off and stared at his coffee.

"Francis," She tried to think of something encouraging to say, but everything that came to mind had the word 'death' or 'died' in it. She knew none of these could help poor Francis. "Oh, Francis, I'm so sorry." And she was. Sorry for Francis. He was such a sweet person, he didn't deserve all this grief.

Francis sniffled and Dulcey offered him her handkerchief, which he took quickly to dab at his eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's alright to be sad." She began clearing away the dishes. _Poor, dear Francis. He thought he finally found love and then, just like that, she's gone_. How terrible. Dulcey thought back to a similar experience she had once. When she was still new to Cimarron.

"Dulcey?" Francis's voice came suddenly, breaking into her thoughts.

"Uh, yes, Francis?"

"You're a woman." Francis looked to her suddenly, "Tell me something. Would you kill yourself in the middle of a wonderful relationship?"

"Uh…" It was an odd question. One Dulcey wasn't sure how to answer. "No. No, I wouldn't." It was true. Dulcey could never think of doing such a thing. It hurt too many people.

But Samantha…well… she wasn't exactly in the middle of a 'wonderful relationship'. Dulcey doubted she even thought much about Francis. She thought back to the first day she had met the Ashleys. Samantha had been watching Marshall Crown. She had been kind and polite to Francis, but she didn't love him. No. Of that Dulcey was sure.

"See? That is why I don't think she did it!" Francis spoke again. "Last night there was something bothering her, but when I asked her about it, she wouldn't tell me."

Dulcey froze. There was something bothering Samantha Ashley the night before she was found dead? The more she thought about it, the more suspicious the death became. What reason would Samantha have to kill herself? What had been bothering her? "Francis," She also sat at the table and looked at him intently. "Tell, me. Why do you think something was bothering Samantha? Did she do something odd?"

Francis seemed taken aback by her curiosity, but answered quickly. "She was--- quieter than usual. I asked her about it and she told me she was fine."

"Did you ever find out what was wrong?"

"No, but when I mentioned her brother---"

Brother! Dulcey was sure of it now! Kip had done something to upset Samantha. But would it really be so bad as to kill herself because of it?

"What did she do when you mentioned Kip?"

"She seemed nervous."

"Nervous?"

"I asked her about it and she told me not to worry about her."

"I see…" Well, something definitely had been bothering Samantha and if had something to do with Kip.

"She didn't do it."

"How do you know?"

Francis got quiet.

"Come on, Francis. You have to tell me. It may be important." She leaned over the table in urgency. "How do you know she didn't do it?"

"Last night, she didn't act a thing like a woman who was going to kill herself."

"What do you mean?"

"She kissed me goodnight."

_She had? Samantha Ashley had kissed Francis?_ "So…?"

"She had never done that before. She loved me, Dulcey. She wouldn't kill herself. She had me to live for!"

Well, that would make sense to her if she truly believed Samantha loved Francis, but Dulcey knew she didn't. None of this made any sense. Francis was convinced Samantha hadn't taken her own life, but if she hadn't who had?

"You said Samantha was upset about something to do with Kip, correct?"

"Yes." Francis looked to her.

"Well, then Kip would know what it was, right?"

"He won't tell us, Dulcey. He's much too upset."

"We have to try."

"Why?"

"Do you want to know what really happened to Samantha?"

"Yes, but---"

"Then, come on!" Dulcey hastily headed for the stairs and Francis soon followed. They reached the bedroom door at exactly the same time and knocked.

"Mr. Ashley! Mr. Ashley! Open up, please!" Dulcey called loudly.

When they didn't receive and answer, Francis turned to her. "Let me try." He knocked this time. "Kip? Kip? It's Francis! Please open up! We need to talk to you!" Still no answer.

"Do you think he's asleep?"

"No one but MacGregor can sleep that hard, Dulcey. Give me the key!"

"Francis!" She was surprised at his unexpected change in behavior. She figured his desire to find the truth had caused him to forget his pain and sorrow over Samantha.

"The key, Dulcey! Hurry!"

Dulcey hastily returned to her room and grabbed the appropriate key. She returned Quickly and handed Francis the object. "Here."

As soon as the door was unlocked, Francis threw open the door. He and Dulcey both entered only to gasp at the sight that met them. Kip Ashley was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Francis reached the open window first.

"Is he---?" Dulcey couldn't bring herself to say it.

"He escaped! He tied the sheets together and made a rope." Francis stuck his head out the window.

"But why?"

Francis shrugged.

"Do you think it had something to do with what was upsetting Samantha? Was he listening in to our conversation in the kitchen? Do you think---?" She paused and exchanged worried glances with Francis.

"He killed her!" The way Francis said it sounded so brutal.

"Oh, Francis. Do you truly think so?" But she knew it. It all made sense now. The Ashleys were, as she had earlier suspected, not a real family at all. And now…

"He's heading back to the farm!" Dulcey cried out in alarm. "Francis, Jim and MacGregor are there!" It was now apparent to both of them. The whole suicide scare was the Ashleys' way of getting the marshal and his friend down to the farm. "What do you think they'll do to them?" Dulcey thought aloud, but Francis didn't answer. He was already heading for the door.

"Francis, wait!"

He turned around to face her.

"I'm coming with you."

"It could be dangerous, Dulcey. If Kip killed Samantha---"

But Dulcey wouldn't have any of it. "I'm coming with and that's that!" She followed him out the door. "Of course, you'll have to lend me some pants a-and a shirt. We're in too much of a hurry for me to ride sidesaddle."

Francis looked doubtful, "Can you even ride?"

Dulcey paused. "Good enough."

"This is crazy…"

"Francis! Come on! Be quick! These are precious seconds we're working on here. We don't have the time to stall! Now do as I say!" As soon as she was satisfied that Francis was heading to his room for the extra clothes. Dulcey (though she knew it was terrible indecent of her) began tearing off her shoes and stockings in great haste. She was barefoot when Francis returned she quickly sent him to the livery and hastily ran to her room to change.

She took a quick hopeful moment to glance out her window. Kip's horse was gone. Dulcey's frown deepened. He was headed back to the farm. She only prayed that she and Francis would get there in time to save Macgregor and the marshal.

* * *

Cold.

It was the only word Samantha could think of, as she lay alone in the darkness. She was cold. _Terribly _cold. Her clothes were wet and her skin was chilled and clammy. She felt as if death was on her doorstep. She had to get out of there. But where was _there_ and _how_ would she escape?

"Kip?" Her voice sounded small, raspy and distant, even to her. Her throat was dry and she licked her lips, trying to moisten them. She paused when she heard a sound. "Kip?" She tried again. Something furry brushed against her arm.

She tried to scream, but nothing came out and her eyes soon became accustomed to the darkness and she could see the sluggish outline of a mouse as it walked past her face. Oh, Samantha hated mice! She felt like screaming, but then remembered she couldn't. She didn't have the energy.

Where was she? What had happened? She tried hard to remember what she could last remember. She had been in her bedroom. A small sound had awoken her and then--- she couldn't remember. The memory was hazy. Everything was hazy. It was getting more and more difficult to think.

A sound came above her, like footsteps. "Kip?" She tried again, but this time only a small squeak came out. Kip! Where was he? Had he realized she was missing? Was he looking for her? Would he search for her here? Wherever here was.

She sighed and it is then she remembered. Kip. Yes, Kip! It was he who had brought her here. It was he who had snuck into her bedroom and it was he who had tried to choke the life out of her. Had he thought he succeeded? Had he left her here for dead?

The footsteps came again. This time it appeared that there were three people. She heard muffled voices; one of which she swore was Reilly's though she couldn't be sure. They were coming from above her. Yes… she was sure of it! She must be in the basement. Kip had left her under the house. Did he know she still lived? Probably not. He had wanted her dead. And now, all she could do was wait. For what, she wasn't sure. Death? Rescue? She closed her eyes again and decided: whichever one came first.

* * *

Dulcey and Francis rode hastily through the night, neither one ahead of the other, for they were both as just as anxious about the sight that would meet them once they reached the Ashleys' farm. They didn't talk. Didn't find any need to. It was quite apparent what was occurring.

Actually, Dulcey was just surprised that it had been Francis all along who was to turn into her confidant. He had believed her. Well, not all the way. He was still convinced that Samantha Ashley (or whatever her real last name was) was not capable of any malice, however, his views on Mr. Ashley and Kip had changed.

It was nearly sun up when they spotted the Ashley farm. They both stopped their horses and assessed the scene slowly.

"They must be inside." Whispered Francis, looking at the large farmhouse below.

Dulcey nodded in agreement, though she wasn't sure why he was whispering. She could see MacGregor's and Marshall Crown's horses tied up outside. But where was Kip's? "Francis," Dulcey whispered back to her friend, "I don't see Kip's horse."

"He probably left it in the barn. Come on, let's get closer." He started off towards the farmhouse and Dulcey followed hesitantly. They left their horses out behind the barn and then she followed Francis over to the side of the house. He peered around the corner of the building and into a window.

"Do you see anything?"

"No. Now quiet down."

Dulcey waited patiently as Francis continued to peer through the downstairs window. It is then, that she heard voices.

"I-I just don't understand it, marshal. She was here a minute ago." It was Mr. Ashley.

Dulcey listened closer and realized the voices were coming from a bedroom upstairs. She stepped back and noticed a window was open on the second floor. She hastily motioned to Francis to join her in the shadow of a tree, where they could hear the conversation more clearly.

"Well, where is she then?" Dulcey froze as she heard Marshall Crown speak. He and MacGregor were indeed inside. She and Francis exchanged worried glances.

"I told you, Marshal. I don't know."

"You were the only one at this farm between the time Kip came to my office and Mac and I got out here. Now what did you do with the body?"

"Nothing Marshal, I swear!"

This is queer. Dulcey thought. No body? Did that mean Samantha Ashley was still alive? She wasn't sure. But if there was no body…

"Hands up!"

Dulcey's thoughts were interrupted as another voice was added to the conversation in the upstairs bedroom.

"Kip? Good timin'. These guys were starting to get nosy."

Kip? Dulcey exchanged glances with Francis. So he was here. But what were they planning on doing to Macgregor and the marshal?

"Alright, now both of you throw your guns to the ground! Come on, quick!"

Dulcey and Francis heard the two solid clunks as the guns hit the floor.

"Alright, now turn around."

"Mighty cowardly shootin' a man in the back." Dulcey heard Marshall Crown say.

"Don't lecture me on bravery, Mr. Crown!"

Oh! That was it! Dulcey couldn't take it anymore. She knew she and Francis would have to work fast if they were going to help their friends. If they waited any longer, Dulcey was sure both MacGregor and the Marshal would perish. "Francis!" She whispered urgently to her friend, "We've got to do something!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The plan was set. Dulcey wasn't sure if it'd work, but Francis had seemed so sure. She watched as he climbed the large oak tree beside the house. She had to wait until he was on the roof and then rush behind the barn, hop on her horse and scream as loud as she could. This wasn't the best of plans, she was sure, but it was all she could expect from Francis. She had to praise him for his cleverness though. They were, after all, running short on time.

Francis battled the tree and she cringed as she heard a twig snap and held her breath, half-expecting someone to appear outside to investigate. The house was silent. Dulcey wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad.

Francis looked down at her and she shrugged. He soon continued his climb and inched out on a strong branch towards the porch roof. Once he had stepped onto the shingles, he braced himself against the house and then gave Dulcey a thumbs-up sign, her signal to get to the barn.

_This had better work._ She thought glumly to herself as she began to quickly scurry through the darkness. The barn wasn't too far off. She just hoped Francis's plan worked and Kip and Reilly were lousy with a gun. If not, well… she didn't want to think about it. She had seen bullet wounds and didn't like the idea of getting shot in the back.

When she reached the back of the barn, she couldn't find the horses. _That's strange…_ She wandered around a bit looking for them, but then decided it was best she continue on with the plan. Even if she couldn't run off, she could always hide in the barn until Francis on the drop on the criminals and came looking for her.

She wandered back over to the back of the barn. Screaming had never been one of her favorite things to do, but if it would save Marshal Crown and MacGragor… well, then it was necessary. She paused and took a deep breath, readying herself for the task at hand. She decided to count to three. Just to make the job seem more thought out. But before she could act she was suddenly apprehended from behind and a firm hand was clasped over her mouth. Her scream came out in a large burst of air and she gasped as a gun barrel was pressed to her temple.

"Alright, Reilly. Talk."

* * *

When Samantha awoke, she was surprised to see that she was still alive. Her head ached now and she felt worse then she had before, but she was alive.

_How long was I asleep?_ She wondered as she lay there. She no longer heard the footsteps above and wondered if anyone were still home.

_Why can't the end just come?_ She wondered. _Why do I have to lay here sufferin'? Is there a reason why I haven't breathed my last breath? _She couldn't think on anything. After all, Kip had been her entire life and he had turned on her. She had nothing left. Not even Marshall Crown. He was probably dead by now. Kip for sure went through with his plans to kill him.

I should have gone sooner. She scolded herself. It's your fault the marshal's dead. You should have gone to him from the start. But she hadn't. Back then she hadn't seen the truth. All she could think about was how much she loved Kip and how she would do anything for him. _Even kill a man? _Now, she wouldn't even kill a fly if he told her to.

Right then and there, Samantha vowed never to follow the wrong side again for love. If she survived this, though he hoped she wouldn't, she vowed to turn herself into the proper authorities and pay for her time in prison. She figured it couldn't be all as bad as Kip said it was. She figured nothing could be worse than being near strangled to death and left for dead in a muddy basement.

Then, to her amazement, she began thinking about Francis. She felt bad about all the times she led him on, pretending she liked him. Sure, he was a nice kid, but she could never love him romantically. She wished she could take back every moment they spent together. Every picnic, every horse ride, and even every meal they had shared at the restaurant. _I wish I could take it all back_.

Her lower lip quivered and then tears leapt to her eyes. Samantha couldn't remember the last time she had cried and recalled the time her pa told her it was a sign of weakness. But weakness or not, she didn't care about it now and she let the tears fall as she lay there in the dirt, feeling sorry for herself and all those she had hurt.

No, Samantha didn't want to die anymore. Death was too good for her. She wanted to live and deal with the consequences of all her actions. Samantha wanted to finally get what she deserved.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"Samantha?"

Dulcey wasn't sure what to do when she heard him say the name. The fact that he said it, told her that he had decided she wasn't Reilly, but he still held her tight. She continued to scream and kick as her assailant held on, his hand still clasped over her mouth and his arm wrapped around her middle. She wasn't sure _who_ this man was, but she had no intention of sticking around to find out. She still had to carry on with the plan. Francis was counting on her.

"Hey, hey. Calm, down. I ain't gonna hurt ya, darlin'." The man's grasp loosened slightly and his tone softened. "Come on, Samantha. Calm down, honey. It's jus' me."

_Samantha? _Dulcey stopped struggling. He had called her Samantha again. This confused her. Did he truly think she was Samantha? The girl who had been murdered as a means to capture the marshal? The girl who had played off Francis's emotions for her own amusement? If she weren't so mystified, Dulcey would have been offended.

"Alright, I'm gonna let you go now. So don't scream. Alright? It's just me, so there's no need to be afraid."

Obviously, this guy didn't trust Samantha very much, either that or Samantha didn't trust him. Why else would he be so concerned that she'd scream? Dulcey decided that as soon as he let her go, she _would _scream. After all, she wasn't Samantha and Francis would still be waiting for her signal, that is, if he hadn't yet noticed her long absence.

As soon as she was released, Dulcey quickly spun around to face her attacker. It was too dark out for her to be able to see him clearly, but moonlight revealed blonde hair and a square jaw. Dulcey wondered how clearly he could see her.

"Well…" The man seemed instantly shy and averted his gaze, looking down at his boots, "Aren't you going to say something, Samantha? Aren't you surprised to see me?"

Dulcey was so befuddled that she soon completely forgot about her original plan and just stared at the stranger. Who was he? How did he know Samantha? Was he a good guy or bad? Slowly, her mind composed a question. "Who are you?"

His head snapped back up and he looked at her again, this time more closely. "You know who I am, Samantha. Don't you remember? Don't you recognize your own brother?"

Brother? Samantha had a brother? A _real_ brother? Dulcey wasn't sure if she believed it or not. Not that a person isn't entitled to a real brother, but with the way he'd been acting, Dulcey would have hardly expected this. Then again, he had only been rough with her when he thought she was Reilly, as soon as he realized she was a woman, he had been more gentle.

"Come on, Samantha. Say something. It's unlike you to be so quiet."

Dulcey decided to take a chance. At the very least, she could yell for help if she was wrong about him. "I'm not Samantha."

He stood there silently for a moment. She was sure he was mulling over what she had just said. _Not Samantha? Well then who is she?_ Dulcey wasn't sure how to introduce herself if she were asked.

"Look." She said, "I don't really know who you are, but you obviously know Samantha." She took a breath and continued, "As far as I know, Samantha would be inside the house right about now." She wouldn't mention that Samantha was dead, or that she had overheard the marshal mention the body was missing. She'd just give him a simplified version of the truth. Then, hopefully, he'd go away.

"Who are you?" His tone grew harsh. She figured he didn't like how long she had been letting him believe she was Samantha.

This was the question she'd been dreading. A question she wasn't entirely sure how to answer. She began regretting her decision of begging Francis to let her come along when he went to rescue MacGregor and the marshal. She felt uneasy standing here behind the barn with this unknown stranger in the middle of the night. She decided to answer his as generically as possible and in a way that he wouldn't see her as a threat. "I'm a friend of Samantha's."

He nodded his head thoughtfully. "I see." Dulcey wondered what he would do next. "You said Samantha was inside the house?"

"Yes."

"Well, she ain't."

His response surprised her. "She's not?" How did he know this? Had he been inside?

He shook his head. "I know so. I snuck in and took a look around before those two men came riding up here on their horses. She ain't in the house."

"You snuck into the house?"

He nodded.

"How did you get in?"

"The back door was unlocked."

"Didn't somebody see you?"

"No one was in sight."

That was strange. Dulcey began mulling over his answers. So, there was a way into the house. If this guy was legit, he could be her and Francis's way to the marshal. Oh no! Francis!

"What's the matter?" The man must have noticed the concerned look on her face.

It is here she decided to trust him. The worse he could do is laugh at her and take her hostage, but now she really didn't care so much about her well being as she did the marshal's. "Look, those two men you talked about? One's a marshal and the other's his deputy. They're in danger. Reilly's got them held captive in an upstairs bedroom. He's gonna kill them!" She said quickly.

"Kill them? Why?"

"I don't know." Dulcey began to wonder if she should continue on with Francis's original plan or do something else. She wished she could determine whether or not she could trust this guy and ask him to help. He hadn't done anything to make her think he couldn't be trusted, but time was short, she knew, for both MacGregor and the marshal.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do." The man said. "We've got to get in there and stop---" Suddenly, he stopped speaking and his hands lifted into the air.

Dulcey was mystified by his actions until she saw Francis appear alongside the stranger. "Alright, now drop your gun!"

The man did as the deputy commanded.

"You okay, Dulcey?" He asked her and she nodded.

"Francis, where did you come from? I thought you were on the roof?"

"I was, but when you didn't give the signal, I figured something must have happened to you."

"But the marshal---"

Francis cut her off. "He's still alive. He's buying himself time by getting the entire story out of Kip and Reilly. I think we still have some time." Francis soon backed over to her side, his gun still trained on the man. "Now who's this?"

"He said he was Samantha's brother."

"Really?"

The man nodded, "My name's Jed Lawrence. Samantha Lawrence is my sister."

Dulcey looked to Francis, but he seemed to be digesting the information, his eyes and his gun still trained on the cowboy.

Jed was persistent, "You've got to believe me. I've been chasing my sister across the states for months now. Ever since she ran away from home, I've been trying to find her and bring her back."

Francis thought a bit longer and then asked, "What does your sister look like?" Dulcey thought that was a good move on his part. This way they could determine whether or not the man was lying; for they had both seen Samantha Ashley and could determine whether or not he was telling the truth.

Jed tilted his head thoughtfully, "Well, I haven't seen her for several months so things could have changed, but she's got dark hair and blue eyes, like mine. She's about the same height as your friend over there." He nodded towards Dulcey. "Now what's going on here? That girl mentioned Reilly was manning a hold up in that house."

Francis must have decided this man could be trusted, because soon he was spilling the entire story. "Kip and Reilly have the marshal and our deputy trapped at gunpoint up in a bedroom on the second story. I was going to try and catch them by surprise by shortening their numbers with a distraction and entering through the bedroom window, but something meddled with our plan." He gave Jed a sort of it's-your-fault look, but Jed hadn't been paying attention.

"Okay." Jed was thinking. "Well, then, how much time do you think we have?"

Francis shrugged, "I'd just as soon stop talking and get into action."

"Well, what are our assets?"

"Well, we've got my gun, and your gun and we've got---" Francis looked around him, "Hey, Dulcey? Where are the horses?"

Dulcey nervously bit her lower lip. "I don't know. They were gone when I got here."

"Those were your horses?" Now was Jed's turn to be embarrassed. He didn't need to finish his sentence for Dulcey and Francis to understand what had happened.

"They're probably well on their way back to Cimarron now." Said Dulcey and Francis nodded his head.

"Well, we've still got my horse." Offered Jed.

"That doesn't leave us a lot of options."

Jed thought for a moment. "Actually… there is _one_ way."

"What?" Though Francis didn't seem to enthusiastic, but Dulcey was up for anything that would save the marshal.

"Don't worry, we'll use your original plan. We'll just change it up a little. To keep Dulcey out of it."

But Dulcey didn't like that. That was the problem with newcomers; they thought she was incapable of helping, just because she was a girl. Although, she was sure MacGregor and the marshal wouldn't be too pleased if they found out she was in on this. "Let me do at least something. I could still be a diversion. I could spook the horses in the barn or something."

Francis thought for a moment and then nodded. "Okay." He looked to Jed. "How about I get on the roof and then you can enter through the back door and…"

Dulcey listened as he finished relaying the plan. Now that they had Jed, the plan was foolproof. She only hoped they hadn't already run out of time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Her time was running out. Samantha was sure. She was so cold and everything had become so quiet. _They'll never find me in this basement._ She thought. _If I am to survive, I'll have to go someplace else. _But where?

She doubted she had the strength to pull herself up the stairs to the ground floor. But that seemed her only option. She decided she'd have to try. At worst, she couldn't succeed and would die down there, but she figured this was a better option then waiting doing nothing if both were to result in death.

She then moved her arm. It felt heavy and tingly, as she hadn't moved it in a while. She moved it up and out. And then she moved the other one. It still worked. All she had left were her legs. If she could move these, she could crawl over to the stairs and begin pulling herself up step by step.

If she could do it, rescue was sure to follow. If she couldn't… well… at least she had tried.

* * *

Dulcey hesitantly tiptoed into the barn. She only expected something to jump out at her from the shadows. Nothing did and she was thankful for that. _Come on, Dulcey. Pull yourself together. Jim and MacGregor aren't out of the woods yet._

She waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and then scanned her surroundings quickly for a good hiding place. She spotted a large stack of baled hay in one corner. She could hide there, but that may be too obvious. Even more so than the hay loft. She looked around again. She didn't have any other options. Well, which had the quickest access to an exit? She looked around again and then decided to hide to the left of the door. That way, she could slip out unnoticed if someone were to abruptly come in to investigate.

_This had better work._ She glumly approached one of the horses' stalls. It had been several minutes since she had watched Jed and Francis walk off towards the house. She had waited until Francis was again on the roof before entering the barn.

The horses began to fuss as she approached. She knew Francis wanted them to make enough noise to distract someone within the house. That meant she needed to find something to make more noise with. She soon found a tin bucket and began rapping on it with a nail she had pulled from the wall.

The horses went wild and she heard someone shout. Hastily, she threw the nail off to the side and ran with the bucket to her hiding place to wait. She kept the bucket in case she needed a weapon. If Kip and Reilly were the only ones around and in the house, she wouldn't have to use it. No one would come to the barn. Jed would meet whoever was sent to check on the horses at the ground level of the house and Francis would climb into the window and hold the second at gunpoint. But if there were another man, she would have to defend herself.

Dulcey pressed her back against the barn wall and waited. All she had to do now _was_ wait. Wait until Francis and Jed showed up with the others. She just hoped it would be soon. She wasn't very fond of being in a dark barn all alone.

* * *

Samantha heard the shouts right before she heard the footsteps. Help? It had to be.

She hastily began moving herself up the next step. She had made a substantial amount of progress in the last few minutes. She was now on step five. She could see the door still a ways above her. _I must make it,_ she told herself and pulled her body up another step. She felt so weak, but she didn't want to give up.

She heard more footsteps and then another shout. Doors slammed and a gunshot rang out. Gunshot? Samantha hoped it had hit Kip. It would have served him right after leaving her for dead.

She pulled herself up another step and then another. The strain was almost too much for her weak muscles, but she kept at it. _I have to keep going! I have to get out of here!_

It is then she heard the voices. She didn't recognize any of them at first, but then the next time someone spoke she was sure it was the marshal. That meant he was still alive. Samantha was relieved.

"Francis? Take Mr. Reilly and Mr. Howard out to the barn and get them strapped on some horses. Take them back to town. Mr. Lawrence? I want you to go with him. Mac? You're with me."

"Yes, sir."

"But Marshal? What about Samantha?"

That voice. It sounded so familiar. What was that third name the marshal had mentioned? Larson? Lawrence? Lawrence! Could it be? _Jed!_

"Don't worry, Mr. Lawrence. Mac and I will find her."

So she had heard right. He baby brother had come to rescue her. "Jed! Jed! I'm here!" Samantha tried to cry out, but she could hardly speak.

"Come on, Jed. Let's get out into the barn and find Dulcey."

_Francis!_ Samantha tried to think of a way she could get their attention. She looked around and her gaze landed on the stair. _Of course!_ Samantha began banging on the wooden step with her fist.

"Hold it, Mac. Do you hear something?"

Samantha pounded as hard as she could. They had heard her. She had to keep going.

"That I do, sir. Sounds as if someone's pounding on a door."

"Find out where it's coming from."

"Yes, sir."

Samantha pounded still harder. _In here! I'm in here! Please! Open the door! Somebody find me! _She pounded and pounded until she thought she couldn't pound any longer. She pinched her eyes tightly shut and collapsed on the steps, weeping. _They just have to find me! They've got to!_

Suddenly, the door swung open and before Samantha knew it, she heard someone run down the steps and take her in his strong arms.

"Mac! I found her!"

_Marshal Crown._ Samantha would have smiled but she doubted she had the strength. He gently picked her up and pulled her to him. She was relieved to feel the warmth of his body as he pulled her from the stairs and stood up.

"Mac!"

"Did ya call for me, Jim?"

"Yes. I found Samantha."

She heard more footsteps. "Is she dead?"

"No. Not yet. She's freezing cold though. Let's get her some blankets."

"Right."

Samantha was so happy that she let more tears spill down her face as the marshal brought her up the stairs. _It's so good to be alive. _She thought joyously. And it was. Never again would she wish for death. Life was just too precious.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Dulcey heard footsteps. She sucked in a quick breath and waited as the sound grew louder and the person drew nearer. Someone was heading towards the barn!

_Could it be the marshal? _She thought it were, that meant he was alive and so was MacGregor. She wished this would be the case and waited patiently as the footsteps continued and the unidentified person got closer.

But then she thought back to the gunshot she had heard earlier. Could it be that Reilly and Kip had somehow won and were now coming to get some horses from the barn to flee? Though it was a possibility, Dulcey had a hard time believing the demise of Marshal Crown had arrived. It just didn't seem possible. Didn't the good guys always win? Even so, she pressed her back up against the wooden wall of the barn and grasped the bucket she held more tightly, just to be cautious.

A lone figure entered the barn. "Dulcey?" It whispered.

_Francis._ Dulcey couldn't remember the last time she was so relieved to see him. Her grasp on the bucket loosened.

"Dulcey where are you?"

"Right here." Dulcey stepped out from the shadows and rushed over to her friend, dropping the bucket and throwing her arms around his neck in relief. "The marshal---" She began when they had parted, but he cut her off.

"He's fine. Everyone's fine. Well, except maybe Kip. He got a bullet in the shoulder." Francis shot an uncertain glance over his shoulder.

"Where is he now?"

"With Jed, by the front porch. Don't worry. We got both Kip and Reilly handcuffed to the rail at present. I just thought it might be best if I came looking for you alone."

Dulcey nodded in agreement.

"Come on, we'd better get back to town. Marshal Crown said he'd meet us there." He walked over to the stalls and released the three horses. It looked like they were one horse short. The frown on Francis's face told her he had noticed the same dilemma, but he said nothing and saddled the three stallions, before leading them over to where she waited.

"Let's go." He took her arm with his free hand and then ushered her from the barn with the horses in tow.

Dulcey looked to her friend, "Francis, we're a horse short. What are we going to do?"

"Someone will have to double-up. Don't worry. It'll work out." He then added under his breath, "It would be a lot easier if I knew where they kept their buggy…"

They soon came upon Jed and the criminals at the house. Kip and Reilly both frowned at them as they approached. As Francis had said, both of the men were handcuffed to the porch rail.

"They haven't given you any trouble have they?" Francis asked Jed.

"No." Jed's answer was short and Dulcey saw sadness in his eyes. She knew he was worried about his sister.

"Well, let's get them on some horses then."

Just then, the door of the farmhouse flew open and out stepped MacGregor and the Marshal. A blanket wrapped figure was cradled in the marshal's arms. _Was it Samantha?_ Dulcey was sure it was, but the bundle was breathing. That meant Samantha was alive. Alive? It was unbelievable. Dulcey was comforted by the thought.

"Are these all the horses?" The marshal looked to Francis.

"Well, there were only three in the barn, but with your and Mac's horse, that makes five…"

"I've got a horse tied out behind the barn." Jed spoke, but his eyes were glued to the bundle. "I-Is that---?" He looked to the marshal hopefully.

Marshal Crown nodded. "It's Samantha. She's alive, but we've got to get her to a doctor--- fast."

Jed timidly approached the Marshal. "M-May I?"

The marshal instantly handed the blanket wrapped Samantha over to her brother. "Mac? Go fetch Mr. Lawrence's horse."

"Yes, sir!"

The marshal looked to Dulcey. He didn't say anything, but Dulcey didn't expect him to. After all, he probably wasn't too happy. "Francis?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"Do we have a wagon?"

"No, sir. I couldn't find anything like that."

He looked to Francis. "Okay. Then it looks like Dulcey's going to have to ride with you."

"Yes, sir."

Dulcey's dreams shattered when she heard that. She had long anticipated her sharing of a horse since leaving the barn, but she had hoped she would be paired with the marshal. Being paired with Francis wasn't nearly so thrilling. At the very least, she was disappointed.

"Dulcey?"

She turned to the marshal. "Y-Yes, Jim?"

"Go see if you can find some rope. We'll need more if we're going to get these guys tied securely to their mounts."

"Yes, Jim." She headed towards the door, somewhat thwarted. She tried not to pout, knowing such things wouldn't get her anywhere, but it was hard. Satisfaction wasn't easy and, she soon found out, neither was finding a rope.

* * *

By the time they had all returned to Cimarron it was early morning. The night had disappeared along with their predicament, but they all knew it wasn't over yet. Samantha still needed a doctor.

They left their horses at the livery stable and then Jed and Samantha, lead by the marshal and a handcuffed Kip, left the rest of them at the inn. MacGregor and Francis directed Reilly to his jail cell and Dulcey instantly headed for the kitchen. "I'll go make us some coffee."

MacGregor and Francis only nodded at her as they locked in their prisoner before collapsing into chairs surrounding one of the tables.

Everyone was tired and worried, Dulcey knew, and she brewed the coffee quickly, returning moments later to her companions with several teacups. The marshal was there when she came back and he gratefully accepted the coffee she offered him.

"So…?" After they had all taken a sip from their cups, Francis looked to Marshall Crown and asked him the question they had all been waiting to hear. "How is she?"

The marshal waited a long moment before answering. They watched as he took another long sip of his coffee and then as he set his teacup back on the table, "She'll live."

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"But she's very sick. It'll be a while before she can go home."

Macgregor and Francis dolefully nodded.

"Where's Jed now?" Dulcey asked, though she was sure she already knew the answer.

"With Samantha. He's going to come back here to sleep, so I hope you have a room ready for him."

Dulcey nodded. "Of course."

Then, as if hearing his name, Jed Lawrence suddenly entered the room. He looked exhausted and it didn't surprise Dulcey when he said 'no thanks' to the coffee she offered him and asked only for a room so he could sleep. Dulcey quickly complied and led him to one of the empty rooms upstairs. When she returned to the table moments later, only MacGregor and the empty teacups remained.

"Aren't you going to sleep, MacGregor?" Dulcey asked him as she began to clear away the dishes. She knew Jim was probably doing the rounds and Francis was in his room, trying to sleep. She wondered why MacGregor was just sitting there all alone and so silently.

He nodded. "Soon, Lass."

"Are you alright?" She paused to look at him.

"Yes, just a bit tired." He offered her a weary smile. "Don't you worry none about me. I'll be alright."

She nodded and continued clearing away the dishes, stacking several cups in one hand. She caught MacGregor watching her. "What is it?"

"I was jus' wonderin' something." He looked away from her.

"Yes? What is it?" She looked at him curiously.

"I jus' wondered why you decided to come with Francis to rescue us."

She paused a moment before answering. "Why? Did you wish I hadn't?" She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"No. I was jus' curious. That's all." He stood and took the coffee pot from her grasp.

Dulcey smiled her thanks. "Well, you can put your mind at ease." She set down a teacup in order to reposition them in her grasp. "I went because you two are my dear friends and I was worried about you. Besides," She added, "I wasn't about to send Francis out after some notorious murderers all alone."

That got a smile out of MacGregor. "Why is that? Did you not trust him working alone?"

"Not at all." Dulcey answered, heading for the kitchen. "Maybe under normal circumstances I would have, but not when he is suffering from a bad case of heart-break."

MacGregor sort of laughed and Dulcey smiled. It seemed that things were finally beginning to settle down and return back to normal. But then, as she dropped the cups into the sink and thought more about it, her smile faded. That wasn't entirely true. They still had _one_ problem left. One problem she hoped would mend soon. Francis's broken heart.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Two weeks later, Dulcey was the happiest she had been for a while. With Kip and Reilly both in jail, it seemed that things were finally beginning to settle down around Cimarron.

Francis was better. Dulcey could tell he had finally accepted the fact that Samantha really never liked him, that the Samantha Ashley he knew was a fake. However, she wasn't so sure he was over her yet. He seemed to like the real Samantha just fine.

"As foolish as this sounds, I'm really going to miss this place." Said Samantha Lawrence. She sat beside Francis on a bench at the Cimarron train depot. She and Jed were returning home today; a trip well over-due for Samantha. A judge had pardoned her crimes, and she was now on her way home, free as a bird.

"Well, come back and visit sometime." Invited Francis smiling, he took her hand in his and squeezed it. The smile soon faded, however, when he got a frown from the marshal. Dulcey knew Marshal Crown preferred as few people in the town as possible; Especially those with criminal records.

"Maybe," Samantha looked up at her brother, who stood behind her, "But I don't think I'm going to want to travel for a long while after all I've been through."

Jed smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder.

"Oh! Before I forget, here." Dulcey quickly handed Samantha the small bundle she had prepared for them that morning. "Some food, for your journey."

"Thank you, Dulcey." Samantha smiled at her and took the bundle.

When the train pulled up moments later. Everyone was ready to bid their goodbyes to the pair: Dulcey especially. She hated the way her friends looked at the beautiful woman. She doubted they even remembered what trouble she had made for them.

"It was nice meeting you, Dulcey." Samantha said shaking her hand.

"You too." As much as Dulcey hated to admit it, she didn't mind this new Samantha either. She was almost a new person. Dulcey was sure Samantha had done a lot of soul searching in that damp cold cellar and had changed for the better.

MacGregor said his goodbyes and then Francis.

"Goodbye, Francis."

Dulcey could tell the goodbye was awkward for the once-been couple; More so for Samantha than for Francis whom Dulcey could tell wanted to continue where the two of them had left off.

"Goodbye, Samantha." Francis dropped her hand, obviously realizing that his hopes were unrealistic.

Marshal Crown shook Jed's hand. "You folks have a good trip."

"Thank you, Marshal and thanks for everything. I have my sister's life to thank you for." Jed smiled at him and then the trio. "God bless all of you." He picked up their luggage and then turned to his sister, offering her his arm.

The Lawrence's walked off the platform and on to the train. Once they got seated, they waved from the window. Dulcey and her friends waved back as the train's whistle blew and it began to pull out.

"Boy, am I going to miss her!" Francis said softly and Dulcey looked to him. He smiled back at her awkwardly and she gave him a sympathetic look. Poor Francis. Maybe he wasn't totally cured. Actually, that reminded her of something.

"By the way…" Dulcey looked to her three companions after the train had disappeared from sight. "What ever happened after Francis left me in the barn? How did you get the drop on Kip?"

The three men sheepishly exchanged glances. Dulcey could tell this was one story she may never get out of them. The events were probably too embarrassing.

"Let's just say, alls well that ends well?" Suggested Francis.

"Why? Did something go wrong?"

MacGregor looked to the marshal.

"Well, Dulcey." Crown took her by the arm and began leading her back towards the Wayfarer's. "Even the best thought out plans have their rocks."

"Aye." Agreed MacGregor. "Like when Francis hit his head on the window."

"I thought we weren't going to mention that?" Said Francis as he and MacGregor pulled ahead and began arguing.

Dulcey tried to hide her smile.

"Dulcey?"

"Yes, Jim?" She turned to the marshal and they both stopped walking. By the look on his face, she knew he was trying to say something that was extremely difficult for him. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was going to apologize. Something she felt was well over-due. Actually, MacGregor also owed her an apology. Hadn't she been right about Samantha all along?

"I just wanted to say…"

She looked at him expectantly.

"Thanks." He seemed uncomfortable; a rarity for the marshal.

"For what?"

"Keeping an open mind about this entire situation."

"Oh." Disappointment seemed like such a small word for what she was feeling. She supposed she could take this as an apology, but it just didn't seem right. "So, you were happy to see that I had come to your rescue?"

He began walking back towards the Wayfarer's Inn. "I didn't say that."

She felt flustered. "Oh but, Jim!" She called after him, but he didn't stop.

She sighed and allowed her shoulders to slump. It looked like it'd be another one of those times when she'd feel so underappreciated. But that seemed to be her life after all. Right or wrong she knew her friends would never admit they were wrong. Never.

Especially not Marshal Crown.


End file.
